[Hmm, yes, he's never done that thing ever. He shrugs, like— they're both going to have to see, actually.]

I'm flattered; here I thought you might throw me in headfirst because you like me. I seem to recall you suggesting I cook for the Ninth, which is outright torture.

[Terrifying. Maybe spicy food was going to be affectionate torture, who can say. Maybe it still will be. He manages to wait until Viktor turns to face him before reaching for both of his hands to thread their fingers together; what better way to handle his errant fidgeting than with hand holding, after all.]

Paul— the friend in question— says he knows a thing or two about handling explosives, so I'll trust him with the larger ones, too. But only him. [no offense @ other friends, but whew] And- pocket-sized fireworks? I'm intrigued.